We Fought Until Our Arms Fell Off

From the Dungeon Journal of Adzeer Mattiu, Hunter of the 1st Circle

My arms.  We battled through the night without rest.  My own zealous passion for squishing nearly got the best of me.  Gaunts and gray robes and black robes, we killed them all.  Montporte was well fed last night.  The gods must have been pleased with the spectacle.  Even Luvin proved to be fierce.  Time has gone by quickly and with the help of the strange mushroom men, we have found shelter.  We can rest.  My arms feel like they are made of stone.

It is a relief that I now believe we know our location once again.  Losing one's way in this immense dungeon could be the deadliest mistake.  We've discovered the two main sources of food are humans and mushrooms.  I don't think we would starve.  Our healing options have been nearly depleted.  We have a few healing droughts saved for emergencies, but I am the only source of healing, Praise Adzeer for his generosity and his appreciation of our fight.  But even he will grow tired of the calls for mending wounds.  Like him, I desire the thrill of violence that rips through my hand and smites my enemies. 

I fear and relish the opportunity to exterminate the population of breeders, those we have named who feed on humans.  We have no idea of their numbers.  They seems to have an endless supply of bodies to throw at us.  While not a threat in battle as such, their numbers wear us down.  By the end of the night bodies covered the floor and still more came. 

These breeders have an understanding or command of machines I've not encountered.  I believe we have not seen all of what they can do yet.  They follow a man they call a god.  I wish to meet him so I can send him to Adzeer and show him true might, true power and to quiver before The Lord of the Hunt.  This is my quest.  My goal to earn my place within the second circle.  I will vanquish this god and offer his spirit to Adzeer, forever may he hunt and his spear strike true.